The young man looked up from the flames. “I’m fine,” he replied flatly, which indicated to Maebus that he indeed was not.
“Mind if I join you? Your fire is most inviting on such a brisk evening.”
The young man shrugged.
Maebus sat on a rock a few feet across from him. The fire was hypnotic. It was obvious now to Maebus why the young man was so transfixed upon it.
“You’re not from around here,” the boy stated without moving his eyes from the fire.
“No, I’m not,” Maebus replied.
“Where are you from?”
Maebus didn’t want to get too specific. “I’m from the south,” he said.
“Really? Like, near the kingdom?” he asked, indicating the first real interest in their conversation.
“Pretty much.”
“Wow, you’ve traveled pretty far to get here. What brings you to this part of the world? Surely you didn’t come just to see our little village.”
“Little village? I think it’s quite nice,” Maebus said, carefully avoiding the topic of where he was going. “I’ve never seen a place in the Realm so peaceful.”
“And boring,” the young man added.
Maebus laughed. “Yes, perhaps for one your age. I’m guessing you don’t leave the village very often?” Maebus leaned forward upon the rock, locking upon the young man’s weary eyes. Why does one so young seem so stressed, he wondered?
“Well,” the youth engaged, “I’m told we migrate to different locations from time to time. But I’ve never experienced that. There are a few places nearby I travel to, such as the rock bed and the sap forest where I cut my firewood. But I’ve never really gone farther than that.”
“Why would you need to?” Maebus asked. “Everything you could ever want seems to be right here.”
“I don’t know…” the young man’s voice trailed off. He grabbed a couple of wood chips off the ground and tossed them into the fire. He watched them burn as if contemplating something. Some strong emotion seemed to bubble just beneath the surface of the young man’s intense expression.
“I haven’t really been sleeping lately,” he said. “I’m not exactly sure when it started, but for weeks, I’ve felt kind of restless. I’ve been feeling this strong urge to leave my village. It’s all I think about nowadays.”
Maebus laughed, now understanding what was stressing the youth. “I remember feeling a similar way, a long time ago. It’s completely normal for young men your age to…” Maebus paused, searching for the right word. “Eh, outgrow the nest, so to speak. I imagine that with the Realmsic Kingdom’s current struggle against the Warlord Damian, and with the natural turmoil of the Realm itself, many young warriors are anxious to leave home for a life of adventure.”
The young man sighed as if withdrawing back into himself. “Perhaps you’re right.”
“I know it may seem difficult to see right now,” Maebus continued, “but your time will come.”
“And how will I know when that time comes?” the young man asked, hunching his shoulders, keeping his eyes low towards the flames.
Maebus thought for a moment. “You’ll have to trust your instincts.”
“That’s at least one thing I happen to do well,” the youth smiled.
Maebus continued talking with the young man throughout the night. When Kelm and Normandy joined them later, they all fell asleep by the campfire. The next day, after the supplies were packed, the three were given new horses and clean robes. After a hearty breakfast, they resumed their journey toward the Ancient Lands.
Chapter Thirty-One
The next morning, Leoden awoke beside the remnants of the previous night’s fire. Yawning and stretching, he glanced around. His friend had already left. His friend…
The word surprised Leoden since he hadn’t even gotten the man’s name, nor provided his own. Whoever he was, he seemed to be very knowledgeable and wise. Perhaps he was somebody important. It wasn’t often that strangers wandered into his village and camped out by his fire. Leoden laughed at the ridiculousness of the notion. The village Elder would never permit such a thing. Over the course of their conversation, Leoden felt a deep connection with the man. Looking to the sky, he murmured a wish for the stranger to have safe travels, wherever he was headed.
The Realmsic sunrise cast an amber glow against the distant snowcapped mountains. A part of Leoden wished he was going with his friend. He sighed, wanting to indulge his introspection a bit longer, but instead forced himself to stand.
“Let’s get it done,” he said half-heartedly. He had a long list of chores ahead of him, and a short amount of time to get himself ready for the day.
The first part of Leoden’s morning dragged by with its usual lull, except for a constant awkward feeling tugging just behind his thoughts. He felt off-center today. The feeling was powerful, yet unrecognizable. He possessed no words to describe the unfamiliar ache in the core of his being. Perhaps he was getting sick. He hadn’t really been sleeping lately, and he’d heard stories about how a lack of sleep could negatively affect one’s body. That would make sense, especially with the changing of the weather and the…
Leoden was startled right out of his thought. Someone was yelling his name.
“Do you hear me? Leoden! What are you doing!” A serious-looking man asked.
“Huh?” Leoden responded, fully snapping out of his trance.
The horse he meant to be washing had walked away and was now relieving itself in front of somebody’s hut.
“I’m sorry,” Leoden exclaimed, racing over to clean up the mess.
The stable keeper gave him a stern, disapproving look. “You’ve been so absentminded. Where’s your head today?” he asked.
“I’ll clean it up, I promise!” Leoden cried.
The accident at the stable was only the beginning. Throughout the entire day, everything Leoden did ended up a complete disaster. He just couldn’t concentrate. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t stay present. His mind kept drifting back to his previous night’s conversation, repeating the words over and over again.
…Your time will come…
You’ll have to trust your instincts …
Later that night, Leoden returned to his hut exhausted. The stars were shining full and bright, yet he decided to sleep inside for a change. Being outside in the open air only increased his solitude. Laying his work tools upon a small table next to his combat weapons, he plopped down on his bed and lay back against its soft wool sheets. His eyes focused upon a spot on the ceiling, though his mind couldn’t concentrate on anything.
He couldn’t remember the last time he’d actually slept inside. Since the warm season had come several months ago, he’d grown accustomed to sleeping outside. But now that the climate had significantly cooled, not even his fire seemed sufficient on some nights.
What am I rambling about? Leoden allowed his thoughts to drift. His mind and emotions were a mess. He tried to fight against that constant, awkward feeling that panged him earlier, but he couldn’t. He shifted his body to lie on his side. He closed his eyes, but the awkwardness became worse, starting as a slight feeling of dissatisfaction that expanded exponentially. His neck stiffened from the tension, and his brain felt like it was swelling beyond the confines of his skull. He tossed around until he was lying on his other side. Perhaps that would be more comfortable. It wasn’t.
The room became silent. The only thing he could hear was the air rushing through his ears. His blood rushed inside his body, gentle at first and then with force. His body jerked!
He tried to fight against it, but the convulsions became uncontrollable. He had to sit up. His feet burned like fire when he set them on the floor. The fire intensified, forcing him to get up and walk around. That made his feet feel better. He paced back and forth from one end of his hut to the other, but the air inside suddenly became too thick to breathe. The walls seemed a few inches closer than they were just a moment ago.
“I’m losing my m
ind!” he said to himself. He became dizzy as the room appeared to spin before his eyes.
“I gotta get out of here,” he said, heading toward the door. He stumbled before he regained his balance. After shoving himself outside, everything stopped. The disorientation lifted, and his mind was instantly clear. An ambient glow illuminated the southern horizon. It seemed miles away but felt warm and inviting. He wanted to be a part of it.
Leoden walked to the side of his hut and untied his horse. He mounted and slowly trotted along the main path of his village. It was the middle of the night, and he didn’t want to disturb anyone.
At the center hut, the Elder sat in a chair near the entrance, seeming to enjoy the cold night. The man had been Leoden’s only guardian all of his life; the closest thing to a parent the young warrior ever had. His heart pounded at the thought of answering the Elder’s questions. He could just hear them now … Why are you out so late? What are you doing? Where are you going?
Leoden had answers for none of them. All he knew was that for the first time in weeks, he no longer felt restless. And as wrong as it seemed, sneaking out of his own village in the middle of the night simply felt right.
The Elder, spotting Leoden, rose to his feet. As the young man slowly rode by, their eyes locked. It was a timeless gaze that said nothing, yet everything. Leoden couldn’t explain it, but he sensed that the Elder understood his actions. With the slightest nod of his head, the Elder signaled his approval. Sometimes, the best thing is to let it all go. Leoden briefly closed his eyes, embracing his first feelings of true freedom. Then, snapping the reins, he galloped into the night. Not once did he look back.
Chapter Thirty-Two
“Come on! It’s right up ahead,” Kelm said to Maebus and Normandy, straddling his horse, riding expeditiously toward the Ancient Lands.
The tallest peaks of the old towers had come dramatically into view over the hillside, and he couldn’t help but embrace a feeling of pure enthusiasm at the sight of them. It was true that Kelm genuinely loved being in the Ancient Lands, surrounded by the beginning essence of his entire world. And having recently endured the heart-wrenching pain of losing his home—everything he loved and cherished—his soul sang with renewed hope, being one step closer to reclaiming the kingdom. Surely, their arrival marked the beginning of the end.
He slowed his horse near the edge of a cliff that overlooked the deep valley below. After several minutes, Maebus and Normandy joined him.
“Behold, the cradle of creation,” Kelm said as they approached.
They sat in silence, taking in the view.
“This land is surprisingly flat compared to the mountainous region west of here,” Maebus observed.
“Indeed,” Kelm agreed. A majestic field of grass stretched as far as his eyes could see on the valley floor. It was reminiscent of standing on a beach at the head of a great ocean whose size alone amplified man’s own insignificance.
Kelm pointed towards the valley. “Look farther out,” he said to the group. “Do you see the two towers in close proximity to one another?” The towers he spoke of were old, undoubtedly predating the Realmsic Castle. They rose from the grassy tide like beacons.
“What are those?” Maebus asked, concentrating on the vertical gray structures.
“Those towers are all that remain of the first kingdom,” Kelm replied.
“The first kingdom?” Maebus exclaimed, gazing with bewildered eyes and a half-hanging mouth.
“Well, the first attempt,” Kelm qualified, smiling at Maebus and Normandy.
“My goodness,” Maebus said. “It never occurred to me that a kingdom existed in the Realm before Centre Pointe.”
Normandy shrugged. “I was never that keen on history,” he admitted.
Kelm continued. “Actually, this kingdom was never fully realized. It was the ancient Wizard’s first attempt at establishing a community of magic. There’s intense speculation as to whether it was solely responsible for inciting the endless war, or if it inspired the establishment of Centre Pointe during the Conference of Amity.”
“That’s intense,” Normandy said gruffly. He shaded his eyes with his hands trying to protect them from the glare of harsh midday sun.
“Indeed, my friend,” Kelm gleefully replied. “Most, if not all, of the Realmsic mysteries can be traced back to the Ancient Lands. The very air is filled with enchantment.”
Kelm took in a deep breath and stretched out his arms. “Ahhh, I love it!”
“So, where to from here?” Normandy asked Maebus. “I got us here, now the rest is up to you.”
Maebus glanced quizzically at Kelm. “Kelm?”
“We’ll first need to move past the towers. Then, beyond this field of grass are a number of historical sites and ancient settlements scattered throughout the region. Fable, the Archivist, lives hidden in one of them, though I don’t quite recall which one.”
“Are you serious?” Maebus asked, his voice tight with frustration.
“Kind of,” Kelm replied.
“Then how will you know where to go?” Normandy asked.
“We’re fine, we’re fine!” Kelm waved a reassuring hand. “The closer we get, the more I’ll be able to sense the location.”
“You mean with magic?” Normandy asked.
“Yes!”
Normandy jerked his head for Kelm to ride forward. “By all means, please lead the way.”
With a crooked grin and a flick of the reins, Kelm directed his horse toward the bottom of the valley. Normandy and Maebus followed.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Several hours had passed since the trio arrived in the Ancient Lands. So far, their journey had remained uneventful. Both Normandy and Maebus gawked at some of the first Realmsic ruins on their way to Fable’s labyrinth.
“Normandy, have you ever been to the Ancient Lands before?” Maebus asked galloping next to the woodsman.
Normandy shook his head. “I’ve been in this general area, but never had a reason to come here.”
“I’ve never been here either, and I must admit the experience is a bit surreal,” Maebus said. A chill ran through his body at the thought of what it must have been like living here thousands of years ago. It was easy to understand Kelm’s excitement.
Riding slowly though the ruins, Maebus took great notice of the environment. The mountains of the west were gone from sight as they now rode through cracked or half-leveled stone buildings. The structures were dingy, gray, and dull, not aesthetically designed as the modern day ones in Centre Pointe. Many of the ancient buildings were half covered in vines and tall grass as if the earth itself were trying to reclaim them.
Surrounding the structures, and throughout the general area, statues of human bodies, or massive slabs with just their faces, had been erected, rising from the ground. Maebus wondered who the people could have been, and it truly fascinated him that such objects could remain intact and undisturbed for thousands of years. Though he wondered what hell could have existed for those living in the region known throughout history as the Realm of Terror. Realistically, it may not have been much different from their own lives. After all, the Realm itself was descendant of the Realm of Terror. Therefore, it would make sense that their own current dysfunction was nothing more than the inherited traits of those whom came before them.
Before becoming King, Maebus pondered this notion often. In a sense, he wondered if the Realm could actually be saved. Over countless centuries, conflict had become so ingrained in their society that the relationship was perhaps now symbiotic. What would the Realm be without war? All that was ever accomplished had been defined by conflict. Conceivably, that was why war never ended. Perhaps the endless war really wasn’t about magic after all. Maybe it was simply about defining the identity of an entire society. Maebus sighed to himself. He was beginning to have serious doubts as to whether Fable could help them.
“What are you thinking about over there, Maebus?” Kelm called out, riding a few feet away from him.
“I know what you're thinking, Maebus. And I think everything will become clear to you when we talk to Fable.”
“Again, I wish I possessed your level of faith,” Maebus said.
“I think you already possess more than you know. It just hasn’t been realized.”
Normandy suddenly drew his horse to a stop. He looped around in a circle, carefully observing his surroundings.
“Normandy?” Maebus observed the deep wrinkles appearing in his forehead.
Normandy’s gaze darted across the ruins, to the western horizon, and then back toward the eastern flats. He listened carefully to something, but all Maebus could hear was the sound of the wind as it blew solemnly across the open grass. But clearly, something was off.
Kelm trotted alongside him. “What’s going on?” he asked.
Normandy took a second look before speaking, “I thought I saw something.”
Kelm glanced around anxiously. “I don’t see or sense anything out of the ordinary.”
“What do you think you saw?” Maebus asked.
Normandy shook his head. “I don’t know. It was only for a split second. I’ve had an unusual feeling ever since we arrived here, like we were being watched, or something.”
“Lands as mysterious as these are known to play tricks on the mind,” Kelm stated.
“You’re probably right. I’m just being overly cautious. But stay alert anyway. Aside from the Legion, there are always many other threats to consider within the Realm.”
Normandy’s warning seemed to linger in the air as they continued their journey. But before long, Kelm stated to the group that he finally recognized much of the land from his previous journeys. He led the group over one of the area’s numerous foothills, pausing as he reached the top.
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